WEEK 6 - Investigation

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (6)

friday (?) survivors Friday comes, and with it, another alarm. At 10:00 AM, a chaotic, dark song plays, more explicitly sinister in tone than previous alarms. As usual, it refuses to stop until you exit your room. The atmosphere seems to change as soon as you open your door, as if you have been left out of something cataclysmic; you feel compelled to explore. Tentatively, you leave your safe haven. taken list profiles setting rulebook ENTER COMMAND_

Comments

[unasking]

[ . . . in all honesty, he's not expecting an answer from her. Hence why Frankenstein is just going to shake his head then - he has to remove her from the situation. Letting her stay in the same space that's obviously a crime scene would be unacceptable. Hence why he'll lift her up into his arms in a princess carry, even though it's probably hard to feel princessy right now, and start the walk to the viewport.

His steps are even and - Machias will have to provide the kind, heartfelt words because Frankenstein has never been good at them. Comfort has never been his area of expertise, opting for either hiding the truth or giving too much of it. It's actually probably better for him to stay silent.

.... except.

There is one thing.

He ducks his head to Clover, his voice dropping so that there is something only for her to hear.]

I imagine now isn't the time - but I do have something for you. Don't forget... but don't feel the need to rush into it either. [And he straightens once more, his expression growing saddened.] Feel what you need to.

All things in due time.

[Grief is something that he's kept locked away for centuries.

But even he felt it once.]

[socloverit]

[It might mean something later—that Machias is so gentle and careful despite bleeding from a wound she inflicted, that Frankenstein has something for her for another time—but right now she can't muster enough energy to even react to being picked up. It's like carrying a corpse, for as much as she moves.

Her brother is dead. So much of who she is has been built around him, he is stability and safety and the only constant she's ever had. Without that, what's left of her?

It's so quiet. It's never been so quiet.

They're off to the viewport. She has no objection, no approval, nothing at all.]